Rocking Chair
by pinkluver93
Summary: Everyone has their own life, good and/or bad. However, when you add on a bunch of pressure, responsibilities and a fear of the world ending into the equation, you forget why your life is so precious..and you forget about the loved one who made you feel this way. Mordeson-themed, takes place in the 'far past'.


_A/N: Most of the names have been changed to fit the time period, but they're all still the same lovable guys and gals! :)_

_I plan on this having about two more chapters, one of them an epilogue. I was gonna mush it all into one single oneshot, but it'll be less overwhelming this way. Plus, it'll give you all something to look forward to. Anyway, enjoy this 1st chappie :)_

Note this fact: No matter who they are, everyone goes through tough times, it don't matter what year you're in, or whether you're sleeping in a cave or a space shuttle.

Nowadays, we have all kinds of technology to let us know if we're in trouble, financially, emotionally and mentally, but for those critters making their way into the 'thriving' 30s? All they really had were their good ol' fashioned five senses, and as you'll see, it won't be near enough...

Our story begins at the park, then formally called "Tranquility by Maellard and Kin". Aside from the local movie palace in the area, it was the most popular attraction to families and kids playing 'hooky' on school days, especially when the Maellard family was in town. They always throw the best public picnics and luncheons.

Anyway, it was a cool evening in late September and two of these aforementioned critters, Mortimer and Ralphie, were playing a type of Mancala game in the kitchen. Before Ralphie took his turn, he got up and grabbed a small bowl of strawberries from the icebox.

"Let's make a bet," He said, putting them next to the gameboard.

Mortimer raised an eyebrow and scoffed. "A bet on something as easy as Mancala? Sure, sucker."

Ralphie was taken aback, but grinned. "It won't be like when I lost at that 'Landlord's Game', believe me! First to reach 20 marbles gets the whole bowl."

"Loser?" Mortimer inquired.

"Loser makes strawberry shortcake."

"How's that a punishment? That's better than the strawberries themselves."

Ralphie grimaced. "For the winner, you dope."

"Oh," Mortimer said while Ralphie took his turn. "I guess you better try and win then, seeing as you couldn't cook to save your limbs."

Ralphie angrily murmured to himself as the two took their turns through the game.

After a bit, it was clear who the winner was.

"OOOOH! Take THAT! I sure love beginner's luck!" Ralphie happily cried as he slammed his fists on the table, causing the marbles to nearly fall off the game board. Mortimer simply sighed.

"You're doing my intestines a favor, so joke's on you, buddy." He took the strawerries and put them on the counter as well as getting some flour, milk and eggs out of the icebox.

"Better use all the strawberries, by the way," Ralphie pointed out. "That ice is bound to go bad any day."

Mortimer frowned, something else coming to mind. "Say, why can't Maellard open his pocket and buy us an electric icebox? Everyone's got 'em, and then our food would last a lot longer."

Ralphie shrugged and started playing with the marbles. "The way he talks to us, he makes it seem like _we _should pay for it."

"That's a bunch of crazy talk, man," Mortimer suddenly stopped mixing the ingredients and looked at his raccoon friend. "We only make 3 bucks a paycheck, and between the two of us, Bernie, Skips, Lean Man and Fiverino pitching in 50% of our paychecks each time, we'd only be slightly close to getting one by the end of the year."

Ralphie scratched his head with confusion, then waved him off like an annoying fly. "Bah, everytime you're around Bernie too much, you go nuts with your politics talk!"

"What's that mean?"

"Mort, think about it. You never cared about the stupid stocks or horse races until you and him became a.." He felt a bit of nausea saying this. "Eh...well, a-an item, I guess."

Mortimer sighed and looked at his friend. "Look pal, we're grown guys now, we don't have our rents taking care of us anymore, so we gotta take a look at the world around us sometimes-"

"Blah blah blah, that ain't it." Ralphie irritably interrupted. "I wouldn't need to mooch some fella just so he could tell me what happened on _Amos 'n' Andy _the other night. All I would need to do is listen to the radio!"

"Ralphie i-it ain't like that-"

"And guess what? They're havin' tryouts for vaudeville acts down at the palace soon and if I make it, I'm leavin' this good-for-nothin' dump for good!"

"Is that so?"

They looked to see Bernard, or Bernie as everyone called him, standing at the kitchen entrance while smoking a cigar.

Ralphie put on a kiss-up grin. "Well, you know, not without Mortimer here. Weren't you gonna do that 'swell-errific' act with me there?"

He shrugged as he held the mixing bowl. "I-I'm not so sure I mean-"

"WHAT?" Ralphie was beyond shocked.

"I'm almost finished with my painting that I promised would be one of the greatest this century's ever seen. If the dean of the art college likes it, he'll grant me 2 more years there towards my degree, so..I'm not so sure about the tryouts anymore."

Bernie nodded as he sat down at the table, the gumballs knick-knacking his dome-head. "Well, good for you, Mortimer. I think it's better that you stay in art college."

"Oh please," Ralphie intervened. "Like a dumb little piece of paper called 'depree' is gonna help him live big!"

"Oh yeah?" Bernie argued. "What makes you think vaudeville is so promising anyhow? Half of the chumps performing now are suffering cuz they can't get a gig, and only the best of the best in the country make it, it's a 5 in 5 million chance for boys like you. College degrees, however, can always be helpful, even in the worst of times."

Ralphie waved him off and wriggled the marbles in his fingers. "They help make you a 'Boris the Boring', that's for sure."

Bernie was about to angrily reply when the phone started to ring in the living room. Mortimer dropped the mixing bowl in shock and ran to answer it. Meanwhile, this caused the contents of the bowl to splash all over Ralphie, making Bernie hold back a few chuckles.

"Can't say you didn't have it coming, Ralphie.."

Ralphie crossed his arms, then tasted some of the mixture off his hand. "Hmm, those strawberries coulda lasted a little longer."

Mortimer picked up the earpiece and spoke into the reciever.

"Tranquility Park residence, Mortimer speaking."

"Mortimer? Hi, it's Marjorie!"

This caused Mortimer to spaz a bit. While it's been months since the two broke up from each other(she was the one who ended it), he still gets the 'heebie jeebies' when he talks to her for whatever reason.

"Oh, h-h-hiya Marjorie! H-how's your evening?"

"It's grand, thank you. Listen, I'm having trouble with my arithmetic homework. I can't understand the way the professor teaches it to me, so I was wondering if you'd be willing to help since you are a little good at math."

"Sure. I can't help you past algebra though, things get too complicated with all the factorials and equations, heh."

They shared a chuckle. She soon spoke again, but in a more arousing voice.

"Well, you're a bright fellow either way. Come over around 5 tomorrow, I'll make us something special."

"Uh s-sure, I'll see ya then!"

"Okay, goodbye." When Marjorie hung up, she had a satisfied smile plastered onto her face as she sat back down next to her mole friend Ethel, who coincidentally was helping her with math homework as well.

"Now see Ethel? I TOLD you he'd buy it!"

Ethel shook her head with disgrace. "This is all wrong, you know. You're the one that ended things with him, but you still lead him on as if nothing happened!"

Marjorie shook her head. "Why, what ever do you mean? I just need a little help with my work!"

"But you told me that I tutor you just fine!"

Marjorie shifted her eyes a bit and took a sip of her tea, waving her off. "I could always use the extra help and-"

"Marge, just admit it. You heard around that Mortimer is making an **actual **masterpiece this time around as opposed to the one he was working on while you two were going steady, so now-"

"Okay, okay," 'Marge' interrupted. "You caught me, but so what? My college tuition is gonna eat me alive and the coffeehouse doesn't pay us jack squat! You know, if a guy's after a woman for her money, no one likes to gossip, but when it's the other way around, people make it seem like it's the world war all over again!"

Ethel sighed. "I'm not so fond of that comparison."

The bright red robin rolled her eyes, then continued. "Either way, Morty's 'Visage de l'Amour' pastel art is sure to be a winner this time around, as opposed to his trashy German painting, and with a few 'lucky instances' with him, I'll be rolling down easy street in no time!"

Ethel had a look of fear as she finished working on a math problem. "I hope you know what you're doing..."

The next late afternoon, Marjorie was in her living room, sewing a blue cotton dress together, when suddenly she heard her doorbell ring. She quickly set the dress aside, opened her math book and walked over to answer the door, fixing her hair on the way.

She smiled big and sweetly and held out her arms, approaching him. "Morty!"

He smiled as well. "Margie! Heheh.." They both jokingly giggled as they hugged each other.

"It's been a while.." Finally, they part. "Come in and sit, I'll get us some tea and peanut brittle."

While the graceful robin went into the kitchen, Mortimer took a seat on the couch and looked through the math book.

An hour later, the two were multi-tasking between chatting about their lives and doing work.

However, it seemed like Marjorie was the only one intentionally 'chatting'.

"But he just wasn't there for me most of the time, you know? I bet love life's been a real drag for you too, huh?"

Mortimer stopped writing for a second and looked up, smiling a bit. "Nah, actually, it's been pretty lucky for me lately."

Her eyes bugged a bit. "Oh! You-you've got someone now?"

"Yeah, we mean the world to each other."

Her tone of voice changed, sounding more dreary. "What a...sweet girl."

"He worries a little too much, though, as if the world was gonna end or something."

"H-he?" She quietly murmured with shock, then spoke up again.

"W-well, you're really carefree, you know." She put her wing on the table, a tad closer to his. "Maybe the two of you weren't meant to be.."

He pondered a bit. "Well, what about that whole 'opposites attract' thing?"

She took her wing back and frowned. "That's not the excuse slogan for every couple, Mortimer."

"B-but I think it is for us! I mean yeah, we fight an awful lot, and he's lots more grown-up than I am, but..but.."

Her frown quivered into a small smile of hope. She brought her face closer to his ponderous one. "But...?"

He smiled at her. "Regardless of our differences, he completely changed my viewpoint of love."

With that, she slinked back. "Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah," He dreamily said. "In fact, my new painting was inspired by our relationship. When times get tough, no matter what, he'll always be there, holding my hand and guiding me through them. He...he might just be my soul mate. Never thought I'd feel that way about Bernie, my own boss for pete's sake."

Marjorie felt an angry tear fall, then felt the man's wing on her shoulder.

"You know, Marjorie, you're a great friend. I'm glad I have someone other than Ralphie to talk to about this stuff. If you ever need an ear to talk into, I'll be here."

She glanced at him. "Mortimer.."

"Yes?"

"I...I have to get the wash done."

"Oh, well, I can help ya if you-"

"No no, that's quite alright, it's a woman's job anyhow." She took his wing and led him to the door. "And thank you for the homework help as well."

"No problem," He was now outside the door. "I'll see you at the coffeehouse next week-"

"Good night!" By mid-sentence, she had already closed the door, leaving Mortimer confused.

"Poor gal...math's always gotten her twisted." With that, he turned to walk back home..

That home, of course, was Bernie's, or their, apartment.

He had his own key, so he was able to come right in. As always, Bernie sat in his rocking chair, listening to the news on the radio while smoking a cigar. He always had a blank face except if a comedy program was on.

_Local psychics are predicting that the decade in front of us will be full of tremor, terror, and otherwise peril. Some are even saying the world might end soon as we know it! Factors might include the recent deterioration of MOSDOQ stocks all around the country due to many brokers pulling their shares out for negligent spending, causing our market to be very unstable at the moment, but experts say this could all possibly be just a coincidence...we can only hope. Stay tuned, next will be 300 nonstop seconds of Stan Marquis ranting about the weather and the world-famous Charleston, and how it 'ruins our youth'. First, a word from our sponsor...Spam Soap! Tastes like soap, smells like a kitchen in Alabam-_

Before the reporter could finish, Mortimer had turned the radio off by turning the dial. Bernie had no idea how to react, of course.

He sighed. "Fine, I don't like spam anyway, or that bub Stan Marquis.."

"Bern, I think you're listening to too much of that news." He sat on the arm of the rocking chair, wrapping an arm around him. "It makes you too much of a downer.."

"I thought you liked listening to the evening news."

"Well sure, but not every night." He looked up in thought. "It just seems like each segment there's always someone saying our lives are over or...making it seem like one small house burglary will cause the whole world to split in half."

"But Mortimer," Bernie said while looking in his lover's eyes. "There's so many people out there saying things like that. Maybe one of 'em is bound to know something crucial that the rest of us don't."

"Ah, c'mon," Mort waved him off. "They don't know a thing! World-ending theories all stem from supernatural things."

"Oh, I don't buy that for a second. Let's be real here, kid. If I blamed all my expensive bills and horrible salaries on magical fairy-dogs or a Greek god in the sky, I'd be locked up for so long that they'd have to throw away the key!"

With a gloomy look on his face, he laid back in his rocking chair and started rocking back in forth, while Mort laid his head on his lover's glass dome, feeling just as hopeless. Then...he remembered something, something his grandmother would nagging-ly tell him all through his life, whether he was worrying about the first day of school, or even worrying about what his crush would say about his haircut crudely done by his mother...

He looked at Bernie with a serious face.

"Hey Bern, what does a rocking chair do?"

"Agh~, no silly questions right now, Mort.."

"C'mon, please just answer me!"

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "They rock back and forth?"

"And they never seem to get anywhere, do they?"

Bernie tried to play along, trying not to wonder why he was on this tangent. "N-no?"

With that, Mortimer gave him a long, passionate kiss. After a few minutes, they seperated, leaving Bernie to look happily confused and Mortimer to grin.

"Isn't it weird how worrying does the exact same thing?"

Bernie nodded and held onto his true love's wing. "I try, Mort, I'm just sick of it all, sick of all the stress causing me to worry. Maybe the world was meant to end after all, you know? People've been saying it all my life anyway..."

Mortimer looked up in thought, then looked at Bernie with surprise. "Say, weren't you old enough to remember people saying these same exact things around the turn of the century?"

Bernie was gonna reply, but did a doubletake, thinking that over. "Y-yeah, that's right! Haha!" He laid back in the rocking chair, smiling at his memories. "I remember Ma burning most of our dinners cuz she was so worried about it. When nothing happened, she felt so awful that she urged Dad to take off work so we could all go on a vacation to a quiet island."

Mordecai smiled and nudged him. "Hey, that's an idea."

Bernie eyed him. "Forget it. There's no money or time for all of us to go on a vacation."

"No, not all of us, just the two of us..you know?"

The tense gumball machine nodded and slightly smiled. "T-that'd be nice..maybe..when Maellard gives us time off, we can go somewhere nice and...serene."

"Oh boy! I'm already ecstatic!"

"Now now, don't get your hopes up," He negatively said to the bird, but relieved that he was off of the whole 'apocalypse' charade. "Maellard wouldn't let us take time off now even if he wanted to. He and his son want four more animals at the park zoo and that's a long load of work for me..and all of us!"

"But that's all easy, we could just figure out what animals he wants and then find a place to get them from."

While Bernie took a puff from his newly-lit cigar, he gave Mortimer a condescending look. "You know life ain't that black and white."

Mortimer put his wings on his hips, sighing. "What do we gotta do, boss?"

The next day, Mortimer and Ralphie walked through the entrance of the park zoo. It was early and there were already a bunch of people there.

"So, how's this supposed to be simpler than the work we usually get?" Ralphie asked.

"All we have to do is figure out what kind of animals people might want here. Bernie wants it done fast so he can continue on with his part."

"And what's **he **gonna do? Sleep in his office and dream about you?"

Mortimer glared at him. "Actually, he needs our information so he can make phone calls to animal reserves, call insurance companies to get coverage on the health of the animals, find size-appropriate cages for the animals he gets, then get an ear-full from Maellard about all of it."

Ralphie had a blank face. "Yeah, I lost you at 'information'."

They walked on, Mortimer keeping a serious face. "C'mon, we gotta get this done by noon if possible, and we **can't slack off**."

"Sure sure, I'll be fine." Then he looked inside the bear cage, watching a baby bear fighting with an older bear, most likely the father. "Hey Mort, look! Lil' Brownie's attacking his dad again!"

Mortimer looked in the cage, looking somewhat mortified. He saw that most of the people watching were quite excited.

He wrote something down on a clipboard he was carrying. "Well, people seem to like dangerous animals. That's a start.."

Ralphie saw the clipboard and giggled. "Hey, I dare ya to write down 'jackass', heheh.."

Mort sighed irritably. "C'mon man, stop playing around. You know Maellard's wife is scared of donkeys."

"So getting 'dangerous-er' animals makes more sense?" Ralphie chuckled sarcastically. "And you call **ME **stupid.."

He stopped and glared at his friend. "Look, I know what I'm doing, okay Ralph? Bernie's depending on us, and we can't let him down like we've been doing the past 3 years and-"

"Okay okay! Lemme think.." Ralphie started to 'think' for a second, then..an imaginary lightbulb beamed above his head.

"I think I've got the best idea ever!"

Mort crossed his arms and looked at his friend skeptically. "I might have to argue with you on that.."

"Just play along with my plan, alright? I promise Bernie won't be disappointed.."

"And when they have to do their business, they can do it behind the wall in their cages so the people won't have to watch!"

Ralphie was drawing various things on a chalkboard in Bernie's office, presumably representing the setup of the incoming zoo exhibits. Bernie sat at his desk watching as well as Mortimer, all of them trying to focus since it was raining and they couldn't open a window, causing the room to feel like a miserable summer in the midwest.

"I know what you're thinking: how in the great depths of hell are we gonna fund all of this? Well..."

The other two looked at him curiously, waiting for an answer. Ralphie, however, was stumped.

"I uh...I actually...don't know, to be honest. But maybe you know that stuff! All I know is...if we somehow got all this stuff I came up with to be in those animals' cages, not only would Maellard and his kid be impressed, but more people would come and visit the zoo and maybe you could up zoo ticket prices from 10 to 30 cents, and they wouldn't even care because guess what? The zoo would literally...blow everyone away."

He grinned and waited for an applause..or atleast a reaction of some sort. Mortimer looked simply astonished, while Bernie just kept a blank face.

It wasn't until a long-lasting minute later that he sat up in his chair and spoke, still no emotion on his face.

"Well...that was...unexpected.."

"I'm so sorry, Bern," Mort apologetically started. "I-it was all his idea, I-I had it all planned out, but he insisted on throwing in his own idea."

"That's disappointing."

"I know, I know."

"Because the whole idea is damn good."

Mort jumped up and looked at his boss like he was crazy. "Come again?"

"Look, as of right now, we have no other plans of any other park expansions, so the budget Maellard has for us is perfect for your bud's little plan." He picked up some forms and looked at them. "Now I gotta get these forms signed and almost everything'll be set."

"And you know what animals to get?" Mort inquired.

"Sure! Your guest surveys really helped! I gotta send those to Maellard as well so he'll give his final clearance."

"So we're free to go, right?" Ralphie asked.

"Yeah, go on. Thanks again, guys."

"Whew! Any room's cooler than this heatbox!"

As he exited, Mort stayed behind, smiling at his boss.

"You feel a little better?"

Bern looked up from his paperwork and nodded, slightly smiling. "Of course. I'm almost certain that Maellard'll like all this, and when he does, I'll be able to breath again..hopefully."

Mort walked forward and sat on his desk. "Hopefully?"

Bern smiled up at him. "..Definitely."

He returned to his work, noticing the wing moving closer to him. He gave a disappointed look up to Mort.

"I'm not gonna have people walking in on us again, kid. Plus, the lock's broken."

Mort caressed his boss's arm, smiling devilishly at him. "They know they have to knock now, right?"

"Mort.."

"C'mooooon~, you owe me, that was a brilliant idea there!"

He jokingly smiled at him. "Technically, I'd have to 'owe' Ralphie instead, wouldn't I?"

Mort nodded. "True. But...I'd enjoy it more."

Bern tried not to blush as he continued to write. "When we get home, I'll **owe** you, sound good?"

He took it as a rhetorical question and continued his work, until he looked up and saw Mort still sitting on his desk and wearing a genuine 'sad puppy' face, as if he was being rudely rejected by his long-time crush.

...And Bernie was a sucker for that face everytime he put it on. He couldn't turn it down, it was impossible to do so! It was like taking a bag of candy away from a sweet little girl.

Bernie dropped his pen and sighed. _Screw paperwork.._

"I can always do this paperwork some other time. I-I'm sorry, Mort, I don't mean to hurt you, I'm just so guilty of being a workaholic and all and I-"

He was surprised when Mort suddenly pushed himself in for a long kiss, holding his lover's dome-head while he climbed into his lap, still kissing him. It all got so intense that they had to end it for a bit to catch their breaths.

Bernie wrapped his arms around Mort's waist, caressing it a bit. "You aren't mad at me, right?"

Mort smiled and played with his boss's crank a bit, getting a low excited moan from his man. "Not at all. You just need a good time."

Bernie loved the feeling and laid his head back in his chair, quietly sighing with excited happiness.

"I'll be kinda mad if you finish first though.."

He eyed him. "Mort.."

Mort kissed him again, giggling. "My dirty mind's always at work."

"No kidding."

Soon, their lips met again, this time for many minutes that felt like a candy-coated heaven.

Minutes became about three or so hours worth of kissing, caressing, everything you can think of.

By the time it all ended, the rain had stopped and the night sky could be seen through the small window.

Mortimer and Bernie were now laying on the floor together, which felt like a feathery cloud as opposed to what it usually felt like: old wood straight from a spiny oak tree.

Mort sat up and looked around, feeling happy as can be. Any worries he had seemed to be absent from his mind as he enjoyed the feeling of satisfaction, wonderful chemistry and un-dying love.

Speaking of which, he saw that Bernie was still sleeping on the floor. Not only that, but he was...smiling. Mortimer smiled back, wondering if he was only smiling because he was having a happy dream..

..or if the excessive worries he had were dormant for just a while. Even though he has more responsibilities than he can handle and the world could end any minute, he should still put on a bright, worry-free psyche, doesn't he?

Mort laid back down next to his pressured partner and held onto his hand, pondering it all.

_We can only hope..._


End file.
